The Really Very Tiny Auditorium was a convenient place to hold any kind of gathering, as the thankfully-absent Notary would be quick to tell you. There was plenty of space for people to knock together a stage out of chipboard and pile up an eye-searing cavalcade of wrapping paper, some of it in Suvian colours that were doing odd things to the onlookers' collective gaze. There was also, unlike last year, an instructive and explanatory pamphlet concerning all the rules, regulations, and general guidelines of the Gift Exchange, though why they had been written in a peculiar phonetic cod-German accent remained a mystery.

Until, that is, the bell of a large brass instrument protruded from behind the slightly knackered lectern like Venus Arising From The MDF.

"Er, hallo? Is this think beink on?" Doktor Trollenfisch, a purple balloon about a foot across and covered in spikes, prodded the microphone with an outstretched fin. "Hm, I vill be testink zis accordinkly."

The resultant brass fanfare nearly deafened the crowd, as well as shake loose one of the light fittings at the back.

"Ah, it is vorking! Echt klasse! Hallo mein friends, und velcome to zer tventy-sixteen annual New Year's Gift Exchange! If you vould be so good as to look at zer tickets you vere handed on zer door by mein glamorous assistant Gabrielle, who ist no longer here on account of a FicPsych appointment, you vill be seeink ein number! If zer number you are holdink is vun, vould you please be comink up to zer stage und selecting your present!"

((A little cursory, I know, but I wanted to get it done. We're now live! =] ))

"Finally! My turn." He looked around at the assembled guests, then at their presents. Aside from the insta-kill gun that the Aviator now held, nothing seemed very appealing to take. The Spy briefly thought about stealing the revolver from the Time Lady but thought better of it. He walked up to the table and took the final gift.

"Right then. Let's hope it's actually something good this time..." he muttered as he opened the gift. He lifted a bottle filled with reddish liquid from the box. "It's a, um, thing. Drink. What is this?" he asked to the room.

Lapis sweatdropped and rubbed the back of her head, laughing nervously. "Cupid was the one who provided the Drinks of the Gods, by the way," she said to Harris, pretending not to notice. "He wanted to bring a vintage Bleeport bottle, but Sarah wouldn't have any of it."

"For obvious reasons," Sarah replied. "And I totally agree with what Violet said about saving them for when you need them. From what I've heard, that stuff's really hard to come by! Though I do have to wonder, how did Cupid even get those drinks in the first place?..."

(Elsewhere in the multiverse, a certain green-haired goddess giggled to herself.)

She'd been watching as the others received their gifts and now that her turn had finally come up, she'd already made her decision. As the pile of presents slowly dwindled and the odds of there being something cool left grew smaller and smaller, she figured taking one of the two remaining gifts just wouldn't be worth it.

She waved at the Skarmory sitting across from her. "Oi, Falch," she called. "Gun please."

"I'm sure you'll find a way to solve it without hands...I actually wanted to bring a mini-Missingno as my gift, but Chris shot it down. Apparently they're too dangerous or something."

"No, it's that since we started the mini-Missingno adoption center--please come visit our RC if you want one, by the way--I think it'd be weird to just give one away like an old T-shirt," said Chris. "The point of the adoption center is to get mini-Missingno to people who actually want them."

"But the end result would still be that a total stranger gets a mini, so I should be allowed to give one away next time we're at a party."

"Ah! It's me! Oh, vhat kind of lovely surprise vill be surprisink me today? Ve shall see, ach ja, ve shall see-ee!" He bounced -- quite literally, and with some measure of complaint from the sousaphone still wrapped around him like a particularly noisy life preserver -- over to the pile of presents and blew a brief fanfare. "Ohhh, I am feelink lucky, my vord yes!"

The Doktor knew in a moment what he wanted. It was the most present-shaped present out of the lot, right down to the pointy rosette and the beautifully-tied ribbon, and since he'd spent a brief period of time as a Christmas present, he knew of what he spoke. It seemed... perfect. There was just one teensy-veensy little problemette. A truly bijou problem, perfect for the first-time buyer.

He flopped over to the closest biped, who happened to be Lola herself, and nudged her with his tuba. "Er, excuse me. Could I possibly be prevailink upon you to help me vizz my present, please? My partner, vell, she left our RC in a bit of ein hurry, und I cannot vork zer Disguise Generator vizzout sprayink mein qwills everyvhere und turnink zer place into a minefield for her soft und fluffy paws. I am most unfortunately bereft of zer useful opposable thumbs, and, if it ist not beink to much trouble..." The Doktor shrugged helplessly, no small feat for a spiky pink balloon wrapped in a brass instrument.

Lola, on the other hand, just set her box of fluffy lifeform down on the table and crouched in front of him. "Of course I will, Doc! Least I can do for the compere." She grabbed the present (indicated by a gesticulating fin) and began to open it, making sure the paper didn't tear. "Must've been difficult to step up to the plate. Flop up? Oh God, I'm doing it again. My foot's so deep in my mouth I'll be wiping bootblack for a month, as my ol' mum used to say."

"Oh, it vas not beink so very bad," the Doktor replied, totally oblivious to the human's panic. "I admit I vas beink ein leetle nervous, but zen I vas sayink to mein self, Herr Doktor, you are ein Agent of ze Department of WhatThe. Zis ist not being so very scary! Not compared to Harry Potter doing somezink unmentionable vizz too much lukevarm coffee und completely insufficient lubrication, ja?"

"I'll, uh, I'll take your word for that, Doc," Lola said, her eyes widening slightly. The paper was then laid neatly at the side. Waste not, want not, after all. Then she actually looked at it. "Oh, mate, I'm sorry..."

"It ist beink fine," said the Doktor as he eyed the Tough Glove. His sousaphone gave a sad, deflated-sounding parp. "I know it ist not necessarily beink zer most useful of presents for ein fish vizzout zer humanoid hands und zo forth, but it ist still ein present und I vill enjoy it very much. Vhatever it is."

"...you can always use that item when you're in human disguise on a mission!"

"What is that item, anyway?" asked Rayner. "I can't tell..."

Lapis gasped. "It's a Tough Glove!"

"A what?" asked E.V.L.

"That's right, a Tough Glove from Undertale!" said Backslash. "It provides +5 Attack, and your Attack will increase even further if you use up a Punch Card while wearing it!" He glanced at Lapis uncomfortably, rubbing his arm in spite of himself. "How did you know, anyway?"

Lapis side-eyed him warily, but replied anyway. "I have that game on Steam! It's amazing, and I'd highly recommend giving it a try if you have the time."

"I've seen a Let's Play of it, actually, including both the Neutral and Pacifist runs! I still need to play the game itself, though."

"Looks like Backslash and I are not the only ones who are filled with determination," Whitney laughed, before addressing the crowd at large. "We got that glove from a mission into that continuum a while ago. Sans/OC shipping... 'boners' and all."

"So, does that mean we can pick our gifts together? Just this once?" asked Sarah.

"That would be a good idea," Whitney replied. "This way, we can save time for the remaining contestants."

The two of them stepped forward, nodding at each other, and simultaneously pulled out two different gifts. Whitney's was pretty tiny, but Sarah's was the largest by far, as tall as her and twice as heavy, and it was lucky her super-strength was up to the task of carrying it back.

Whitney opened hers first, raising an eyebrow. "Oooh, I hope I can adapt this to my dietary regimen. It looks and sounds pretty tasty!"

"The quesedilla recipe I just received. I'd like to cook up health-food-style Tex-Mex sometime, maybe even with the hot sauce that Crazy Dave used on the taco that kicks off the plot of Plants vs. Zombies 2!"

"I'll be the judge of that," said Backslash. "Perhaps you could teach me to cook as well, just in general."

"...You can't cook? Or the canon Shulk couldn't?"

Backslash looked visibly uncomfortable, so he tried changing the subject by calling, "Hey Sarah, what did you get?"

"Well..." The Super had peeled off the wrapping of her gift... and found herself hanging onto a giant cask decorated with a Viking motif. "...Let's just say I'm going to have to reserve a vault somewhere in the Incredibles equivalent of Fort Knox, preferably with a laser grid security system and a sixteen-digit combination lock."

Indeed, she and Lapis were trying to hold off a certain angel in a pink toga, who was reaching for the cask with a maniacal expression and screaming "MINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINE!"

"At least, I think it is. If you get the health-food variation to work, can you send me a sample? Mom would be really happy to know other people like her cooking."

Violet, meanwhile, joined Sarah and Lapis in their struggle by grabbing one of Cupid's arms. "Cupid, if you don't calm the fuck down I'm going to chicken-wing you," she threatened. "Sarah, stop holding it in front of his face, you're only making it worse."

"You mean... You wanted us to..." He stared at Steph, dumbfounded, and then he blushed, hiding his face in front of his wings. "Steph, please stop, I'm going to die again!"

"So that's why you wanted the ale," said Lapis, her large anime eyes seeming to grow even larger. "You knew it was from her..."

Cupid managed a flustered "yes". Then he added, "And besides, I'm literally the only person in our RC who can use it. Of course I know better than to get wasted on it right away - I was just hoping we could share everything we got..."

"We can do that after this party," said Sarah. "I'm the only one of us who can carry this thing, and I'm certainly going to be keeping an eye on you in case you abuse this stuff. If you blow it off all at once and wreck half of HQ, I'm calling the DIA on your sorry sacred buns. Got it?"

Cupid nodded, still blushing. "I'm sorry for making you mad, Violet," he added to the other angel, before turning to the kraken girl. "I lost control back there, and I'll try not to do that next time. Oh, and Steph? You, me, Arctic Inn, Sunday evening. I hope you're up for ale and a dip!"

He meandered near-spherically over to the now depleted pile of presents and examined the remains in close detail. With him was a silver bowl, though he would not use it; that, after all, would spoil the surprise and not be at all in keeping with the spirit of the thing. His soft, rather dainty hands ran over the remaining presents, and a keen-eared observer would have noted him mumbling to himself about the possibility of their contents. In the end, however, he turned away and rejoined his partner, the smile on his face only a little bit too wide.

"And Glitter Girl, it's now your turn to pick something out of the pile."

Eve shrugged, passed the whip to Algie, and moved towards the pile again. This time, she picked up a particularly large box, before taking it back and opening it. Rayner looked inside as well, and then the two of them glanced at each other.

"I am taking these back to my pocket dimension of incarceration and playing them nonstop until you beg for mercy," said E.V.L., grinning.

"I swear to Celestia, Glitter Girl, if you try that load of horse-apples on me, you'll be answering to the Sunflower!"

"Why not? It's not like I can't have fun on weekdays, either."

"Yeah, well, your idea of fun synonymous with annoying the dreck out of me even in my sleep! Is that what the Flowers want from you?"

"Considering that I was assigned as your partner to punish you for your little oversight all those months ago, yes."

Rayner facepalmed and growled, "I hate you."

What was it in the box that had prompted their argument? A set of Hi-Fi speakers... and a triple album labeled "Now Zat's Vhat I Am Callink Oompah!"

Her horn lit up, and she very carefully levitated a plain black present from near the top of the pile over to her. The pile wobbled three times but did not fall.

"Nice," said Chris. "What'd you get?"

She opened the box...and squeed happily. "A magician's hat!" She took off her ordinary black hat and plopped the top hat on her head. As it was sized for a human, however, it fell down over her glasses, knocking them askew, and also completely covered her ears and horn. "Uh-oh. Um, is there anybody who can resize this for a pony...?"

"Apologies for that, luv," said William, as he swiftly maneauvered through the crowd. "Should've added somethin' that would detect the head that wears the hat. The only thing it can do is reach into the Hammerspace, so I think that makes up for the size, no?"

VJ looked up from her plate of snickerdoodles, and turned towards the stage where not a lot of gifts were left. "Bah!" She handed William the place and a cup of ice cream. "Hold this, please!"

She hopped onto the stage and took a look around. One perfectly cubed package caught her attention. After a quick unwrap, which consisted of basically shredding the wrapping paper into confetti, VJ was holding a very pretty wooden box. It was salmon pink, polished and lacquered, with a matching lid. Just seconds later, the lid popped off and a small, plushie clown on a spring appeared with a loud "WHEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

VJ yelped, dropped the box, and jumped away. She was staring at the wobbling jack-in-a-box, hissing like a cat.

“Lesseehere…” He started pointing at each of the remaining gifts and singing to himself. “See how the game of life is playing all of us for fools… dancing a string around us, making all these silly rules…

Each apparent beat of the song, he pointed at a different gift. “See how he looks down on us like we’re acting out a show, throw the dice, and let’s see which head will roooooll…” He finished on a shaking box a bit bigger than a basketball. “… a present that’s pre-shaken, how thoughtful!” He popped it open, and found himself staring into the single eye of a five-armed metal ball.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEE! IT’S A MINI! MINIMINIMINI!” Valon hugged the mini-Omnidroid, which seemed to be getting rather dizzy from Valon’s overjoyed spinning dance.

"...well, as long as you aren't a Super, which I really doubt." She laughed and rubbed the back of her head.

"Wait, why does the Super thing matter?" asked Cupid.

"The Omnidroid was originally designed as an anti-Super weapon. Luckily, mini-Omnidroids are far less likely to turn you to pink confetti. Who knows, maybe Adéle could give it a few useful functions for you."

"Assuming she doesn't blow herself up in the process, of course," added Lapis.

"Wait, how did you-"

"You told me about her, remember? Y'know, after you got back from FicPsych and got hugged by Steph?"

He stood up, prepared to walk towards the pile, and then decided that it would be better to reach over with his scarf and grab the nearest present, which was surprisingly small and flat. Whitney facepalmed.

"Show-off," Sarah mumbled, offering Cupid a tissue.

As soon as Backslash opened up his present, his eyes widened. "Is that... Toon Link and a Great Fairy?!"

"It looks hand-drawn," said Whitney. "I think this would make an excellent wall decoration."

"Toon Link is one of my favorite characters, so I figured he'd be the perfect one to practice my drawing skills with. Have either of you played a Zelda game before?"

"I thought your special talents were making stuff happen when you sing and generally being smart?" Violet asked.

Ami nodded. "Key word 'special'. Anypony can learn vocabulary lists or the history of the Best Young Fliers competition or how to treat a hurt animal or something. It might not be her special talent, but she can learn it. The way I see it, anything that ends with me learning something new is worth my time and energy and however much stress I go through."

"Bwuh?" Miguel checked his ticket. "So it is. Thanks, Chris." He headed for the stage. Fortunately, since the pile of gifts was much smaller, he could pick a gift from the bottom and not worry about the whole thing collapsing. He opened it carefully... "Oh my God. Please tell me this has virgin recipes in it."

"Wait, what?" his partners asked.

Miguel hung his head and sighed. "We got a book of cocktail recipes and some mixers. A virgin cocktail, if what I read on the Internet is true, is a cocktail without any booze in it. Since I'm fifteen and Chris is technically twelve..."

"I'll have to have them, too," said Violet with a serious expression. "I don't know what other parts of the Sue I used to be stuck around after I got rescued, and I refuse to risk finding out that I'm just as bad as Cupid where booze is concerned." A few rows behind her, a certain someone sneezed twice in a row.

"Ooh, is it my turn?" he asked. He checked his number and stood up, going over to the pile. He delicately grabbed a box in his mouth by the ribbon and carried it back to his spot, where he sat, puzzling at how to go about unwrapping it until the Aviator leaned over and pulled the paper off for him. "Thanks," Zeb said, nosing the lid off. He looked inside to see...

A ball of fur.

He tilted his head. "Um..."

The ball of fur purred and his eyes widened." Is that a Tribble?" he asked, backpedaling away from the box.

The Aviator leaned over to see for herself. "Looks like," she said, scooping it out of the box and cuddling it. "Aren't you a cute little thing?"

"Hi, cob! Forgot you were on the guest list. If you're concerned about being able to control a Tribble, well, I'd be only too happy to take the little fluffball off your hands." Lola prodded the Tribble in the box. "Whosa good Tribble? Whosit? Is it you? Yes! Yes, it's you!"

"Erm, well, if you're sure," he said. "Seriously, though, don't let it eat anything. It won't be pretty if you do." He nodded at the Aviator, who gingerly handed the Tribble to Lola like she might bite.

Lola stroked it idly as she looked around. "Thanks, cob. I appreciate that. And, er, listen, whoever you are..." Lola sighed. "I'm guessing you've had some bad experiences with my colleagues. It happens. Way, way more than it should. If there's anything you need, anything I can do to help, you come find me, okay? We're not all bad." She gave a chirpy, slightly winsome grin.

"We-e-ell," Zeb said, trying to think of some way to break the hostile silence, "I, uh, I guess I need to pick again, right?" He padded over to the pile of presents and picked out a rather heavy one, pushing it along the floor with his nose until the Aviator got up and carried it back for him.

"Opposable thumbs, much?" she muttered.

"Shaddap," he said good-naturedly, and set about ripping the paper off with his teeth. His eyes lit up when he saw what was inside. "New Harry Potter books!"

((Would it be possible for the spreadsheet to show who's picked what? I'm starting to lose track.))

"Heh, I love those books too. My partner - he's over there, I think you've met - absolutely adores them, but then he's really into magic as a field of study. I mean, I just kind of let him get on with it, y'know? Just so long as there's something heavy to hide behind." She looked back at the Aviator, took in her scowl, and looked back at Zeb with a raised eyebrow. "Is... she alright? I'd ask directly, but I'm not sure I'd get an answer."

"Alright, cob. It's obviously a bit of a touchy subject, but I'll hold you to that. See you in Rudi's sometime, maybe? Feel free to bring your partner along too. Now there's a woman in need of a Screaming Orgasm or six." She grinned. "It's a cocktail, before you ask. Oh, jeez, I've said something else wrong now, haven't I? See, this is why I let Algie do the talking. I'm no bloody good at it when it's not being shouted over a comm."

"Sure! Just warning you, I'm not completely human. I got augmented in my homefic with a bunch of weird alien tech we didn't really understand, so, er, just... be careful. Or don't. Up to you, really, but just let me know in advance so I can bring the wheelbarrow for you behind the bar. Of course, if you're not quite human either, that just makes things more interesting." Lola's grin stretched ever wider. "See you both there! Oh, and I promise not to let my partner try out his bleep stuff on you again. They're getting better, I'll give him that, but I prefer drinks that don't bend space and time into interesting shapes."

"Yeah. Um. I... know a bit about Time Lord biology. Well then!" She tried to brass it out, and to her credit she almost succeeded. "I guess that'll make things really interesting then, eh, cob? I'll have to put you on the good stuff too. Make things a bit fairer. See you after this?"

Kala scuttled up to the pile of gifts and selected one of the smallest boxes. She rapidly tore the box apart, and looked at its contents curiously.

“… what is it? It looks like a sonic screwdriver, but I don’t recall those having a hook at the end, or having these really stupid eye-burning colors…” She pressed a button on the device, and a red laser connected the base and tip.

Valon stared covetously at the gadget. “… hon? I think you just nabbed yourself a laser spanner.”

"Yep, that's a laser spanner," the Aviator said. "Sorry about the coloring, but what do you expect from Suvian instruments? And just a heads-up, I don't know how long that one will last. Alex's broke down after about seven months, so..." She shrugged.

He sauntered over to the gift pile and examined it for a few seconds. Once again, there was a flat envelope-- but the Guardsman decided to skip it this time. Instead, he chose a largeish plain-looking box and returned to his seat. He popped the lid and lifted a diamond pickaxe from the box.

"Ooooh. Shiny," he said, turning the pickaxe over in his hands. "Right when I was considering putting money into some short-range bludgeoning weapon. Perfect."

"Then you'll love that pickaxe! We snagged it from the PPC's first ever Minecraft Sue a while ago. The fic didn't specified what enchantments it had, but we now know it's got Efficiency V, Unbreaking III, and Fortune III. It didn't have Silk Touch, though. Wonder why they skipped that?"

"Because it's ridiculously counter-productive when mining for diamonds and other gems, and renders the Fortune III completely useless?" asked E.V.L.

The Guardsman gave it an experimental swing, trying to get a feel for the pickaxe's balance. "Well, that suits me just fine. The point man should be the one to breach the doors and walls after all." He examined the glowing pickaxe head. "Plus, it's a shiny. Shiny things are powerful-- that's a proven law of nature, y'know."

"My turn my turn my turn! Let's see..." Her two tentacles grabbed a small box that seemed even smaller next to the eleven-foot kraken. "Ooooh, what's in heeere?"

Carefully opening the box, so as to not damage its contents, Stephanie found herself holding a bunch of bony triangles on a string. "Shark teeth?" Her skin momentarily changed to the shock-white color of fear, before its color and texture changed to match burnished gold. "I don't know who made this, but I love it!"

(OOC: Yup, Stephanie's skin is a mood ring when she's not paying attention to it.)

"So, what? She still liked it!" Cupid patted her shoulder. "You don't have to get upset as long as she knows what it really is."

"Yeah, but... my homefic gave me the teeth I have now, remember?" Lapis looked at the floor, sniffling. "I got them after channeling the power of a fan made legendary Pokémon, and they've stuck with me ever since."

"We know, Lapis, and we completely understand," said Sarah, patting her head. "It's just that, well, you're past that now, like we both are with our histories. Get over it," she added with a chuckle.

Lapis snuggled the other girl, still sniffling. "Well, uh, thanks. I guess."

(OOC: Since a new RP is starting up, will there be a conclusion post to this one? Thanks!)

...and picked up a rather tiny gift in his jaws, before carrying it back to his seat. The object inside looked rather delicate, so he had to be extra careful peeling the wrapper off with his teeth and talons. Inside was... a book.

Falchion looked at the book in confusion. "Uh... Ripper? Are you sure you can read that? It looks like it's written in some kind of alien language-"

"It's Sumerian. It will take me a while to translate it, but I could hopefully transcribe it. Perhaps it contains some secret message that only a very specific recipient can understand..."

"Ah. I'll leave it up to you, then."

(OOC: Terribly sorry about the wait! Between preparing for my new job starting next week and working on a new mission, I haven't gotten the time to do Internet things as often as I'd like. Hopefully that'll change once I get my schedule reorganized after the job starts!)

(We did finish it last year, after all. I was waiting on SeaTurtle's reply regarding the chocolate eclairs, though. If that's already turned up or doesn't turn up by the end of today, I'll post Ripper's turn and then we can continue.)

Funnily enough, I was waiting on you (or, more specifically, E.V.L. Knievel) to respond to Algie and/or Lola. Which you could conceivably have done quite easily while waiting for Gaspard's response to, er, cream-filled buns, thus filling up a bit more time. Just a thought. =]

@SeaTurtle: Sorry about not responding to Gaspard and Wobbles' interaction. I, er, didn't really have much more for Wobbles to say, though I should probably have put that in the thread. Apologies again.

(...I actually didn't have a response planned for E.V.L. And I was busy preparing for work and stuff, so I probably didn't get the time to think of any, sorry. :c On the flipside, though, wasn't Lola supposed to pick a new gift since hers got stolen? That could've been taken care of during the holdup as well, I guess.

"Though far be it from me to get in between a woman of such... singular stature and her quest for a family heirloom. If you care to look to your right, you will see the object of your desires in the possession of a stocky, heavily augmented professional soldier, a leader of men and obliterator of monsters from beyond the dome of Heaven, which I shall presently fetch for you. Now, if you'd be so good as to excuse me?"

This was about as close as Algie ever got to breaking out the effector fields and turning someone into an art installation, but he remained outwardly calm and smiling. He wandered over to where Lola was still... gyrating (poorly, and to music that only really existed in her head), for want of a better phrase, and produced the pamphlet. He then spent a few minutes trying to make Lola see reason, before sighing and having her march over to the ex-Sue and thrust the whip at her, in a rather sulky fashion not quite befitting the Commander's station.

"Well, as you can see, I took the second option. It was that or pick one of the presents left on the pile, and, well, take a look for yourself." Sure enough, the pile of presents had been eaten away at the base, so that the entire edifice was as precariously balanced as the latter stages of a Jenga game. "I still would've liked the whip though, but it's like Algie said. I wouldn't want to deprive you of something so obviously close to your heart. Anyone you knew go into making that, cob?"

"It's not stale, either, I kept it in the minifridge and everything! Wait...do you have a nut allergy? I think I left some Hershey's almond bars in there by mistake."

"No you didn't," said Violet. "Remember? Miguel and I ate all the almond candy bars in like a week."

"You ate all the almond ones," Miguel corrected. "And the sour gummy worms. And those disgusting black Twizzlers. And at least half the Tootsie Rolls, even the flavored ones. And all five of those giant lollipops..."

Violet turned red. "Shut up, Miguel! You're making me look bad!"

"I can prove it, too," he said with a wry smile. "I mean, it'd totally break the universe since I'd be meeting myself, but I can take you back in time and show you exactly how much of Chris' Halloween candy you ate."

The angel promptly smacked him upside the head.

Ami rolled her eyes. "Guys, I know you're both teenagers, but stop acting like them."

In response, the Spy snored gently in his chair. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was tilted precariously to the right in his seat. Harris, who was seated next to him, looked around the room at the other guests.

“It’s your turn, Gaspard. Wake up. “

Again, he snored. Harris leaned over and poked his colleague with a finger. “Hey, wake up.” No response. Harris got up and tapped Gaspard’s shoulder. “Come on, now...”

Gaspard started leaning more and more to the right. As the inevitable approached, Harris stepped back. “Well, that’s sure to wake him up,” he muttered as Gaspard fell to the floor with a crash.

“Argh.” Gaspard slowly got up and looked at Harris, who wordlessly pointed at the gift pile. He then noticed the entire auditorium staring at him. “O-oh! S-sorry, I, um, I…” He felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I-it’s just th-that I had a, um, long day, er, days and I haven’t had m-much, er, time to… um… sleep, and I’ve not b-been having the best times recently, and, em…”

“Just grab your present, Gaspard,” said Harris as he regained his seat. “C’mon, keep it moving.”

“O-okay… Sorry…” Gaspard quickly made his way to the pile of gifts, staring at his shoes all the while. He selected the first thing that he saw—a medium-sized box—and quickly shuffled back to his seat.

Cheer up, he thought to himself. You should be happy that you got a present. You don’t want to look like an ingrate, do you? Smile. Remember to smile. Be normal. Smile, and be happy. Whatever is inside will make you happy. It’s going to make up for the awful day you’ve been having.

Still conscious that all eyes were on him, he slowly lifted the lid. It was weighted and seemed to be holding something down. A small wheeze escaped from inside the box. He swallowed nervously and opened the box. He was greeted by a Pandora’s Box of wailing, squealing rubber chickens. After the infernal noise died down, Gaspard was left looking at the box, lid still in his hands.

“Thank you,” he said quietly to whomever was the owner of his box and, for reasons he didn’t quite understand, dissolved into a giggling fit, pausing occasionally to draw breath and wipe tears from his eyes.

Wobbles couldn't help herself. She joined in with the other agent's slightly manic laughter and walked over to him, bouncing up to hang her dream catcher on a convenient stacked chair. Yes, the ducks were funny, but there was an edge to that laugh that she knew all too well, and all the more for how vividly she remembered it.

She put an arm around him as his giggling fit died away, the lights on her bow tie turned off and the comedy squeakers in her shoes silenced with a deft flick of a toe. "Y'know," she said softly, "I've been where you are. I know how to spot when someone's there. So have a.little extra gift from me, and if you're struggling at all, day or night, just... know that you don't have to go it alone all the time. Okay?"

Despite that, what she wanted to do was grab him and give him a hug, but he was obviously so deep in what she'd once called Negative Response Territory that she was certain it'd do more harm than good. "You don't need to apologise. Not here, and never to me."

Gaspard accepted the handkerchief and wiped away the final traces of tears from his eyes then offered it back to Wobbles. "Yeah, I'm okay. It just comes out every now and then-- I'm good now. Heh. Nobody likes a crybaby anyways, so... yeah. Let's just pretend it never happened," he said, looking at his box. "But, um, asking me to stop apologizing is really going against everything I stand for as a Canadian. It's in our blood to apologize, see." He smiled weakly at the Floater agent.

"I was... technically from Forks, Washington, once upon a time. I felt like I had to apologise for existing, the first few months I was here. Both for my home canon and for my home fic, which was... yeah. Hoo boy, that was a doozy." Wobbles looked quickly at the handkerchief. "Keep it. Please. I got a ton of 'em." And she tugged at her ear and began to produce a string of flags-of-all-nations, enough to wind around her entire arm. "See? Proof. Besides, take it as a sign that you don't have to be alone if you don't want to be."

She smiled, and fought desperately to refrain from giving him another hug. She could see what was wrong with him, but more than that, she could feel it, rolling off him in black waves. Everything he said was hollow and forced, the brittle, self-effacing politeness an act she'd seen a lot of people use during her time in FicPsych. She'd only ever suffered from Suvian depression, but this was quite self-evidently the real deal.

Gaspard very carefully folded the handkerchief and placed it on top of the box. He felt that it would be rude to cram it in a pocket in front of Wobbles. "Not alone if I don't want to be. Heh. Well, I try," he said, discreetly gesticulating at the rest of the partygoers. "Sometimes it doesn't turn out the way I hope. Oh well. Try and try again."

Doesn't turn out right 'most of the time', added his brain. I mean, you did cry in public today. For shame. Go and hide or something-- save what little honour remains after all these years.

"Come in number seven, your time is up," Lola muttered under her breath. She'd rather lucked out, in her estimation of things; not right at the start when everyone was staring and all excited, but not so low down that she'd only be left with the presents that spat sparks. She bounced amiably up to the stage and managed to avoid tripping on the mike, and looked up and down at the presents. Algie's big lump of a thing was supporting a few of the others, so that was out. Hm. What was another box...

Her gaze alighted on a disc-shaped present at the bottom. Intrigued, she selected it and finally unwrapped it. And there it was. A Sue whip, made of 100% ethically-sourced glitter-powered abomination. She ran her fingers gently along the length of it, feeling how the hair was still salon-soft, despite having been hacked off the Suvian or Suvians in question some time ago and still containing flecks of glitter, sparkling like hot pink diamonds.

Then a bad thing happened. A very, very bad thing. It was very easy to tell how bad of a thing it was, because of how much Lola was grinning.

VJ, who was also attacking the mini-bar, looked at Algie. She was holding a small paper plate full of snickerdoodles. Crumbs on her shirt, and around her mouth, suggested that some of the cookies have already met their doom.

"Making that whip was fun," she said. "Even months after the mission, the hair stayed supple enough to be woven. The only problem was the shape; those stupid locks seemed to have the memory of always staying perfect, so every single time they would simply turn into curls."

"Indeed?" His tone was studiedly mild. "I confess to being entirely ignorant as to the construction of Suvian artifacts; a personal preference on my part. But it brings the Commander evident and keenly-felt pleasure, and for that you have my deepest thanks. As, I am sure, you have hers." The round little man drained his glass and smiled. "May I get you anything? The wine list is a little sparse since last week's incursion into Stores, but there's a rather daring Montrachet '06 on offer that I wholeheartedly recommend. An underrated year, in my opinion, and worth further consideration."

She hummed the Lunar Sanctum theme as she walked up to the stage. "Wow, check out all that shiny wrapping paper!" She picked a small box with red paper and opened it. "Aw, what?! Whose dumb idea was the glitter?!"

"...so it's not like it'll corrupt anybody anytime soon. Of course, I was hoping someone who knew a contact from the DMSE&R could get their hands on it. You know, for research purposes."

She glanced at the other participants (some of whom looked understandably grossed out - especially the one with the blue hair). "Though of course, if anybody actually WANTS it, there's always the option of stealing it..."

Rayner, meanwhile, had sunk to the floor and buried his face in his knees now. "Note to self: Avoid inviting Glitter Girl to parties at all costs. Next player!"

With his hands hidden inside the frock coat's pockets, William casually strolled onstage. He briefly glanced over the packages, before picking one. There was no need to deliberate; every box was covered with a gift wrap, so why not just let Lady Luck decide? The box that William grabbed was wrapped in black paper and dark red ribbon.

"Oh? What do we have here? Let me see..." He reached into the box, and pulled out... a skull. Seemingly a human skull, except for the front part which had way more eye sockets than necessary. Seventy-nine, to be exact. William grabbed the skull with one hand, and raised it slightly above his head. He then put his other hand against his forehead, and looked at VJ. "Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio..."

The warlock hopped down from the stage, holding the skull with both hands. Faint glimmer of green light seemed to be coming from his fingertips, encasing the skull in a thin net of green veins. The skull suddenly escaped William's palms, and smoothly levitated next to the man's head.

"Adds to the whole 'Master of the Dark Arts' vibe, doesn't it?" William smiled, and the skull opened its mouth. Trail of green smoke came out of it, briefly formed into a snake, and dispersed as quickly as it appeared.

"I should’ve put a sign on that Balance Board saying, 'Batteries not included'!" Whitney chuckled. "It comes to life once you put them in, by the way."

"Well, that explains why it threw me halfway across the room when I tried to use it," said Backslash. "I'm not so concerned about the batteries, though, but rather the fact that those guys don't have a game to go with it!"

Whitney facepalmed. "That's what I was missing! I'll tell you what, uh, Chris? That's you, isn’t it? I'll send you a game disc for Wii Fit as soon as I can, and one for Wii Fit U as well to compensate for today."

Backslash reached over to Cupid with his scarf and poked him in the side. "Uh, Drunky? It’s your turn."

"Huh? Oh! Right, coming!"

A few moments later, the angel had brought back a rather large box. He tore the wrapping to shreds, opened it up, and-

"THIS! IS! SPARTAAAAAA!!!"

Lapis, as usual, screamed in terror and leaped onto Rayner’s head. It was then that the two agents noticed the words "BOX OF MEMES" written on the side of the box.

Cupid stared into the contents of said box for several moments, during which they let ouy more memetic cries of "AND HIS NAME IS JOHN CENA", "PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME", "HEEEEEYAAAAAAAAA", etc. Then he shut the box and stared off into space.

"Yep. Just like my husband to donate one of the weirdest things possible."

The tall agent calmed down just enough to put words together. "Heheheh... yeah, I basically just shoved an MLG compilation in there." What appeared to be a Magnemite, with a baseball cap and a hashtag in place of one of its magnets, escaped from the box and floated around Cupid. "Congratulations, Pitthree, you now have a pet Swagnemite!"

He suddenly noticed someone else in the room, and nudged his wife with a whisper. "Hey, Kala..." He pointed out Lola. "Doesn't she look familiar to you?"

(OOC: As of today, I will be doing all of my Internet things from Chevy Chase! The road trip there and unpacking all my stuff was the reason I wasn't available to post earlier, so I apologize if you were expecting something sooner. Anyway, I've decided to challenge myself for this Gift Exchange - since I have no less than nine agents participating, I want to see if none of them gets a gift from each other, i.e. each of them gets a gift originally sent in from an agent from another Boarder. With that, let's get started!

"Hey, it's cute enough-- especially when you realize that this thing is ridiculously overpowered. It's a R8 revolver from a previous patch of that new Counter-Strike game," said the Guardsman. "Completely broken. You load it with .357 Magnum but it hits harder than a fifty-cal round. Seriously. It's fantastic! It can one-shot a humanoid target in the head, chest, arms, and stomach at mid-to-long range regardless of if your target is wearing body armour or not. Doesn't matter if your Suvian target is protecting itself with armour, a shield, a brick wall, whatever-- the R8 is going to punch right through it. Have fun with that and don't point it at your friends.

"Just, uh... it's obviously not loaded at the moment and I didn't have enough spare change to buy some ammo. You're gonna have to get it yourself."

"At the risk of tempting the Ironic Overpower, I think I'm keeping this." Falchion fawned over the revolver with a cooing like a Pidove, trying to hold it properly with his talons.

"Falchion, are you sure about this?" asked Lapis, sweat-dropping and soaking her shirt. "I kinda doubt you'll be good with firearms even with an aim that good."

"Hey, I'm turning 23 this year. I'm 100-percent sure."

BLAM! A button-sized hole appeared on the ceiling, making Lapis scream and hide behind Cupid’s wing.

Falchion yelped and put the revolver down. "...99-percent sure."

(OOC: Is it okay if people can start up their turn after the previous player has opened up their gift, without waiting for responses for the previous turn? I think this fast-tracking would help speed up the completion of this RP. Thoughts, guys?)

Careful, obviously, to avoid the microphone. Or the wires. Or, for that matter, anything that looked even vaguely technological.

"Oh boy oh boy oh boy, I can't wait! I'm... I'm gonna take this one from up top here!" She leaned up and grabbed the most innocuous looking present she could, promptly disembowelling it in a frenzy of wrapping paper that rained down over the Doktor like confetti. He didn't seem to mind, possibly on account of being as terminally cheerful as Wobbles was herself.

"Oh, wow! It's a... it's a thing! Yup, definitely a thing of some description or another!" She held the dreamcatcher aloft and gave it an experimental prod with her free hand. "Wait a minute, I know what this is! Oooooh, this is definitely going on the ceiliiiiing!"

((OOC: Having had a look at the gift list... er, Skarm, would you care to explain why Algie's gimmick (his fascination with Bleeport has long been a characteristic) that he can't get to remain stable (also a defining characteristic) is currently in possession of someone he's never bloody met? And that's leaving aside the fact that white port is absolutely godawful...))

(AFAIK, the only similarity I see between Cupid and Algie is their drinking habit, and that is a complete coincidence because I didn't know Algie even existed when I wrote the first few missions with Cupid. The fic I sporked in the mission that led to Cupid’s creation featured Pit getting a nasty drinking habit among other things when the memory sickness affected him. I picked Bleeport as his signature drink because it fit the Greek theme (I don’t recall vodka or whiskey being a thing in the Hellenistic era), but Cupid has never once experimented with it even if he knows the cultivars. I picked Chardonnay because I wanted an expensive wine cultivar, and that was the first to come to my head.

At the interest of distinguishing Cupid’s gift from Algie's, though, I've changed the former to a six-pack of Drinks of the Gods, from Kid Icarus: Uprising. I apologize for the confusion. :C

Also, for all future turns, can participants please reply to the introductory post rather than to the post with the previous turn? This way, it'll be easier for us to keep track of whose turn it is.

(I'll follow my own advice sometime tomorrow morning, along with posting Whitney’s reply. I meant for my earlier sentiment to go to everyone in general, though, so nobody would get confused about whose turn it was.)

He walked onstage and up to the massive pile of gifts, trying not to trip over a wire or the strange, shiny, talking Qwilfish. The pile looked a little unstable, so Chris pulled out a generic blue present with a white ribbon from the middle. "Hopefully this one's not gonna be creepy like last year's." He untied and pocketed the ribbon, then opened the gift to reveal a Wii Balance Board. "O...K? Well, I think we have games this'll work for..."